Book Six: Chapter 200

Freyja took a deep breath and gladly paid it.

A seam in the sky opened up, and the spirits poured forth. They weren’t warriors--most were simple fishermen or farmers. It was the spirits native to this region, angry at Grýla and her ilk. They spiraled down, riding the wind much like Freyja did, crying out in languages that had been unheard in hundreds of years.

Down below, the mob chasing Yuki looked up in time to be ripped apart by the vengeful spirits. Hundreds of them assaulted Grýlas, stray snow beasts, and even a few Yule lads that got caught up in the fight. The spirits gave a wide berth to the three-headed hellhound breathing fire. Freyja smiled at the sight of a cerberus free of its domain. She was very familiar with the breed, and couldn’t think of a more loyal companion.

Though the wind held her aloft, she felt her body weakening as her magic and the divinity she had acquired held the rift open. With eager eyes, she watched as Yuki arrived at Santa’s home